This is a personal essay I have been trying to write for a very, very long time. It isn't sparked by one thing in particular, but it comes in response to, and accord with, things I've read by
chopchica and
miriam_heddy and
roga and
dafnap and
abyssinia4077 and
xiphias and
kita0610 and ... yeah
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Only you did it a ton better. And with less cuss words.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
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Thank you for reading, and let me go edit the post, because I've realized that I went to look up the numbers in your name to cite you at the top and totally left you out, so: yeah, it means a lot to me that you understand.
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Ok, see, now I think I am going to cry. Because I just got told for my TONE in a post about Israel in someone else's LJ, and this is exactly what I needed right now and I am totally crying like a girl.
Ok then.
Uhm. Thank you again.
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♥ Anytime.
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I...I have no words, because this was that beautiful. Thank you. I learned so much, and I am deeply saddened I did not know it before now.
Thank you.
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Like those before me: thank you for this. Seriously. It's always something that bothered me, the idea that we aren't allowed to interact with a text that is meant to define every day of our lives; about being asked to reinvent the wheel when looking for guidance anywhere.
I never had the chance or time to study my faith like I should, but I grew up listening to my parents, like any good Israeli ex-pat, ex-socialists and for all intents and purposes, atheist, discuss the books down to the word, beginning to end, inside and out, weaving through Hebrew when it was just for adults, with little bits of English to keep me and my brother awake at the table. It fascinated me that for people who could be so disillusioned, and at times, actively faithless, that the act of discussing, picking apart a text, working off of a common dialectic ( ... )
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This. This.
That's always been my problem, explaining to friends how I could still consider myself Jewish without actively believing. I think I don't want to forget, out of stubbornness from growing up in a primarily Christian small town, or because of the desire to preserve a religion that encourages dialogue as much it tries to teach. Or maybe it's mere pettiness, because I want to make my family's history worthwhile, to not let those words in the margin fade away.
*Yes.* Thank you.
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And this sums up my experience more perfectly than I could think to articulate.
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Thank you for reading.
eta: ugh, I meant in the sense of "that venn diagram doesn't mean what you think it does," not "i hate it when people include Islam," hopefully you got this the first time and I'm just paranoid, over and out.
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